


Looks Familiar, is Seen to be New

by ncruuk



Series: Behind the Beret - being Bernie [1]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, Military Backstory, Original Character Death(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncruuk/pseuds/ncruuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bernie steps in to help calm a patient's seemingly out-of-control family member, Raf and Fletch realise that Ms Wolfe's experiences encompassed much more than answering to 'Major Wolfe' and wearing khaki instead of scrubs.  </p><p>[A one-shot that is after 'The Cowards Way' [s18, ep 30] - whilst there are no specific spoilers for the episode, it does help if you've seen the episode trailer if not the episode itself.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looks Familiar, is Seen to be New

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware that this story includes references to fictious military personnel wounded in Afghanistan. The references and mentions within this fic are consistent (in terms of 'graphic') to that which has been shown on screen in Holby since the character of Bernie first appeared. 
> 
> [Original characters are my own, those that are recognisable are the property of Holby City etc]
> 
> In terms of a 'headcanon' timeline for my writing in this fandom, this story is set before Chapter One of 'In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning'

“Should I get the test results sent straight up to Keller?” asked Raf, annotating the patient’s notes with the tests Ms Wolfe had suggested.

 

“Thanks, I’ll…”  Bernie was distracted, as most of AAU was, by the sound of a stick falling into a metal trolley which in turn fell over, with the metal bedpan that was resting on the top of it falling to the floor with a clatter.  Unsurprised that the person at the centre of the chaos was somewhat flustered and reacting angrily at themselves for what had just happened, but seeing that there was a small surge of staff heading towards the chaos, Bernie continued speaking as if never interrupted. “...wait for the results before taking him into theatre.”

 

“I’ll get Fletch to sort out the transfer,” decided Raf, slightly disappointed he wasn’t going to get to do the procedure himself, but pleased that he had asked for a second opinion on how to manage the patient’s conflicting primary problem and secondary issues.  That he’d ended up with Ms Wolfe in AAU hadn’t bothered him, but he was not entirely looking forward to facing Serena - whatever it was that had happened between the two trauma consultants, Serena was taking the longer to recover some sort of tolerance and good humour.  Or maybe he just noticed it more because he knew her better.

 

“Thanks.  Essie’s on…” volunteered Bernie automatically, still looking in the general direction of the earlier crash, “Who is that?”

 

“Patient’s 27 year old female, came in as an RTA,” began Raf, double checking he’d got his notes finished, “oh, Fletch?  Mr Frangton’s being transferred to Ms Wolfe on Keller - can you?”

 

“Consider it done mate,” agreed Fletch easily, plucking the notes from Raf’s hand and pivoting smoothly so he was no longer headed towards the female RTA with the extremely challenging family member, glad to have good reason to not try to help.

 

“Thanks.”  Raf glanced in the direction of the treatment area that was holding Bernie’s focus before looking at her as he continued with his summary.  “Uh, 27 year old female, RTA.  She was the driver, the  _ gentleman _ is we think the husband, and there’s a 9 month old, bonny kid as far as we can tell, they were passengers.”

 

“RTA?”  Bernie ignored the emphasis that Raf placed on the description of the man, who was clearly somewhat traumatised by what had happened, which was unsurprising given he’d been involved in an RTA, except there was something not quite making sense.  Where were the lacerations? Or the broken bones?  And why was she feeling that she’d seen them before?

 

“Ah low speed,” explained Raf, wondering why he was surprised that she’d noticed something wasn’t adding up given her experience, “no one else involved.  But we’re trying to work out why the driver’s having seizures.  No history apparently.”

 

“I see, thanks.”  Unable to place why she was feeling a sense of familiarity with the family, and now that the mystery of why they were in AAU was cleared up, Bernie smiled and nodded her thanks to Raf and prepared to head back to Keller, absently noticing that the metal trolley had been righted, the (fortunately empty) bedpan had been picked up and that generally speaking, AAU was returning to relative calm.

 

As she walked towards the exit, she passed Fletch at the Nurse’s station who was just hanging up the phone.

 

“That’s done Ms Wolfe, Essie’s expecting him for you.”

 

“I said NO!”  At the sound of the forceful objection coming from the RTA’s family member, Fletch looked over Bernie’s shoulder and winced.

 

“I should…” he said, gesturing towards the chaos as he moved away from Bernie before she could reply with anything more than a nod.

 

“NO!”  At the loudness of the shout, Bernie also winced but kept walking, knowing that the family member was probably one more comment away from a removal by security but this was AAU and not her territory.  “Sommingsby, John.”  At the sound of the name, Bernie froze before turning and rushing back to the RTA patient.

  
  
  


“Ah Fletch,” said Serena, relieved to see him appear by her side, “I think it’s time for sec…”

 

“Corporal.  Sommingsby, John.”  He’d interrupted Serena before she could finish asking for Security, however before she could try again or ask Fletch what he thought was going on, a new voice joined the chaos.

 

“Take a breath Corporal.”

 

“Who’s there?”  Serena watched the man, who was clutching the whimpering baby against his chest with one arm whilst he stood stopping them get to the side of their patient’s bed, as he was distracted by Bernie’s voice.

 

“Major Wolfe,” said Bernie simply, touching Fletch on the shoulder so he created a space for her to get through so she could approach Corporal Sommingsby.

 

“Ma’am?”  Clearly confused, and breaking into a heavy sweat, Serena and Fletch watched as this young man tried to stand up tall and straight.

 

“At ease Corporal,” Bernie recognised what he was trying to do and really didn’t want him attempting to stand to attention if what she remembered of his injuries in the field was correct.  “Permission to admire the baby?” she asked gently, taking care not to crowd him but keeping her ‘military voice’ as that was what was familiar to him.

 

“Of course Ma’am!  I….”  He tried to shift his hold on the child so he could hold her towards Bernie, only he started to wobble and his shirt began to stain with the sweat that was pouring off him, concerning Serena now that she was able to look past the large, angry man who’d felt uncontrollable.  “Could you take her Ma’am?”

 

“I’m coming in from your left,” said Bernie quietly, before taking two steps forwards and reaching out with her hand, “fingers on your forearm,” she added, before gently resting her fingertips on the huge tattooed forearm that was cradling the child firmly.  “I’ve got her,” she said finally when she’d moved her hands to be holding the best parts of the child she could reach, ready to firm up her hold and lift the child off him when he was ready to let go.

 

“Thank you Ma’am.”  His forearm relaxed and Bernie quickly lifted the child out of his grasp and away from his body, which enabled Serena and Fletch to see that his right arm stopped just below the elbow.

 

“There’s a chair to your left and behind you Corporal.  Take a seat.”  The order was firmly given, and John Sommingsby was used to following orders, even when at his most scared and disorientated.

 

“Ma’am.”  He carefully shuffled his feet backwards and to the left until he felt the edge of a chair touch the back of his legs, at which point he sat down.  “Thank you Ma’am.”  He wiped his forehead using the shirt covering his right shoulder, his left arm, tired from hanging onto his niece for three hours, resting limply in his lap.

 

“Talk to me Jonny,” encouraged Bernie, shifting the drowsy child to a slightly more comfortable position on her hip, her back protesting slightly, “what do you remember about today?”  

 

“Jess, I’m staying with Jess at the moment.”  Bernie could see him frowning, knowing he was probably asking himself why he was thinking he was back in Afghanistan if he knew he was staying with her.

 

“She’s your sister isn’t she?”  Bernie searched her memory, trying to recall the bits and pieces they’d got him to share whilst they worked frantically to do enough to keep him alive until they could be extracted from the hell hole they were in.  “Kid sister?”

 

“That’s right Ma’am, two years younger than me.”  Out of the corner of her eye, Bernie noticed Serena pulling out the patient’s file and starting to make some amendments, clearly not having been able to get much of a patient history earlier.  “She’s really good about driving me places.”

 

“Was that what was happening today?”

 

“Yes…” he frowned again, trying to remember where he was supposed to be, “what time is it Ma’am?” he raised his left arm slightly showing he was wearing a wristwatch, “I’ve got one of those speaking watches but until I get a new arm,” at this he waved in her direction with his right arm, indicating he was talking about a prosthetic forearm and hand, “I don’t really have enough hands to press the buttons.”

 

“It’s…” Bernie glanced at the digital clock on the wall, “1453.”

 

“She was taking me to physio.  We had to leave at 1100 for my appointment at 1145.”  He twitched when he heard the beep of a machine trigger a quick burst of activity at another patient’s bed.  “But Jess started having some sort of seizure almost as soon as she’d taken the handbrake off.”  He licked his lips, trying to moisten them to make it easier to talk, prompting Fletch to quietly head back to the nurse’s station to get him some water.  “I didn’t know what was happening, just heard the noise and then felt her arm hit my face…” Bernie glanced at Serena again, who was looking thoughtfully at Jess’s readings, clearly trying to reconcile his recounting of what happened in the seizure with what they were now seeing in AAU where Jess was lightly sedated.  “I tried to remember the ABCs you taught us Major,” he looked crestfallen as he turned his head back to where he knew his sister was lying, “but it was hard.”  Bernie watched the tear run down the cheek of this brave and tough Paratrooper, whose blue eyes had sparkled with a generous and gentle good humour whenever she’d seem him and his section either at Camp Bastion (if they were passing through) or on a couple of occasions when she’d been out to one of the forward operating posts or, even more remote patrol bases.  “We must have bumped the cars parked by us, because it then got really loud with alarms and the baby crying and sirens…” he turned back to Bernie, “and then I was back there Ma’am.”  He ran his fingers over his forehead, rubbing them against his thumb, feeling the sheen of sweat, “I’m sorry I got so loud and angry Ma’am.  I thought I was back there, to that day, when it happened.”

 

“Understandable Jonny,” reassured Bernie, knowing how hard it was for these brave but battered young men to articulate what they were seeing and thinking when they had these sorts of issues.  “But you know where you are now, and Jess is being looked after.”

 

“Will you be her doctor Ma’am?” At the look of hope on his face as he asked the question, Serena was tempted to shove the file at Bernie and leave her to work another miracle but before she could lecture herself on being petulant and unprofessional, she saw something change in Bernie’s demeanour that made her pause and pay close attention.

 

“No Jonny, I’m not Jess’ doctor, I just came to see you.  Ms Campbell is Jess’ doctor, and you don’t want anyone else - her team’s the best.”

 

“I thought your team’s the best Major?  You and Captain Dawson?”  His tried to moisten his lips again, to make talking easier, not knowing what effect his words were having on Bernie.  “You were out there Ma’am, you got me home.”

 

“Captain Dawson’s not in this hospital Jonny.  But Jess and you are in the best hands with Ms Campbell.” Bernie looked at Serena as she spoke, causing Jonny to pick up the fact that her voice had changed as she turned her head.

 

“Is she there?”

 

“I’m here Mr Sommingsby, just checking Jess is comfortable,” said Serena clearly but kindly, following Bernie’s lead in terms of keeping her voice nice and calm.  To her relief and amazement, he was staying calm despite the chaotic background noise that was AAU in the afternoon, in total contrast to how he was earlier.  Based on what she’d been able to work out from the conversation he was having with Bernie, she was now also very relieved they hadn’t called security and he was calmer now, because clearly, his reaction was a completely understandable on his part.

 

“I apologise for my behaviour earlier Ma’am,” Jonny sat up a little straighter in his chair as he turned towards where he worked out Serena was standing, “and didn’t mean any offence by asking for the Major to be Jess’ doctor.”

 

“Apology accepted,” said Serena easily and sincerely, seeing Fletch nodding his agreement as he waited quietly with a cup of water for when the right moment came to offer it to Jonny.  “And none taken, I understand about wanting to have a friend treat your sister if you can.”

 

“Major?”

 

“Yes Corporal?”

 

“She’s a civilian, isn’t she?”

 

“Yes Corporal, very much so,” confirmed Bernie, grinning in spite of the look of disbelief on Serena’s face, barely concealed amusement on Fletch’s and massive knots twisting in her stomach, “but we mustn’t hold it against her,” she stage whispered conspiratorially, knowing she really had to get back to Keller.

 

“Understood Ma’am.”  Jonny cleared his throat and turned back to Serena,  “Major Wolfe isn’t a friend Ms Campbell, she and Captain Dawson are the ones who kept me alive long enough to come home to my sister with most of my bits still attached.  She and the Captain are my sister’s hero.”

 

“Jonny, can I give you back your niece please?  I need to go and operate, but I will come back to see you and Jess afterwards, if you would like?”  Bernie had spoken before Serena had really finished working out exactly what he was saying and what she wasn’t quite getting.

 

“Of course Major!  Sorry…”  He raised his left arm, “...just put her on my lap, and yes, it would be great if you could come back.”  Bernie put the slumbering baby on his lap and waited until he’d got a steady hold of her again.

 

“I’ll be back later then.  Keep calm and if you need to, I can be called earlier.”

 

“Thank you Ma’am, we’ll be good.”  His grin hadn’t changed, despite everything he’d gone through.

 

“Right.”  And with a final nod, Bernie turned away, catching Fletch by the sleeve as she turned, and pulling him with her until they were out of earshot.

 

“Ms Wolfe?” he asked finally, when they were back at the nurse’s station, his hand wet from the water sloshing out of the cup when she’d pulled him along.

 

“Under no circumstances should anyone ask about Jess’s husband or the baby’s father.”

 

“But he should know…”

 

“He’s dead Fletch.  Lance Corporal Michael Granter, Corporal Sommingsby’s best friend married his little sister Jess right before they both shipped out to Afghanistan.  On the third day of the tour they came under attack at a forward operating position.  Captain Dawson and I were coincidentally there and worked on them in the field, but Granter’s injuries were too extensive and he had died within minutes of the initial attack.  He died not knowing his wife was two weeks pregnant.”

 

“Oh.”  He swallowed thickly, understanding, “I’ll make sure.”

 

“Do that.”

 

* * *

  
  
  


“Holy Shit…”

 

“Charge Nurse Fletcher!  There is no need for that language.”

 

“Sorry Ms Campbell, but there is.”  Fletch turned the computer screen slightly so she and Raf, who was coming up behind her, could see the screen.

 

“Explain, quickly,” instructed Serena, not looking at the screen beyond seeing that it was a news site rather than anything football or celebrity related.

 

“You best read it, I’m not sure I can explain it any quicker,” admitted Fletch, shaking his head and blinking, as if trying to ‘unsee’ something.  “It’s about that John Sommingsby, and the baby’s father.”

 

“The soldier?” asked Raf, leaning forward so he could read the news story, having watched most of Ms Wolfe’s interaction with him from the other side of the AAU.  “For real?” he asked Fletch, stopping half way down the article.

 

“Yup.  That’s the third news site I’ve checked.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“Mr di Lucca!” Serena was reading the article to the end before she commented on it, but that didn’t stop her reacting to his language when she heard it.

 

“Sorry…” he finished reading the article and then looked at Fletch, puffing his cheeks out as he absorbed what he’d just read.

 

“I know.”  Fletch knew what his friend was thinking, he’d thought it when he’d read the first news story that he’d found when he googled the name Ms Wolfe had said was Jess’ late husband and found the stark recounting of how the Lance Corporal had died of his injuries at a place he had no idea how to pronounce.

 

“Ok.  So now we know where he was injured,” observed Serena, having finished the article which was broadly consistent with all the other articles she had read over the years about servicemen and women losing their lives whilst overseas in Afghanistan and before that Iraq.  She was puzzled as to why this particular article was prompting such an unusual reaction in Raf and Fletch, since it was hardly the first time they had come across young lives dramatically altered and ended by injuries sustained during acts of extreme bravery and heroism, or the families left behind if the injuries were not survivable.

 

“Read the third paragraph Serena,” insisted Raf, realising she hadn’t worked it out.

 

“I have.”

 

“No Serena,” insisted Raf firmly, his Scottish accent thickening, “read it carefully.”

 

Frustrated but recognising it wasn’t going to be dropped by either Raf or Fletch until she’d complied, Serena vented her frustration by reading the short paragraph that Fletch was pointing to with his pen aloud, as if to prove she really had read it.

 

“ _ Despite the actions of officers of the Royal Army Medical Corps, who were already at the Patrol Base at the time of the enemy attack, Lance Corporal Michael Granter died of his injuries before the wounded personnel could be evacuated by helicopter.” _

 

_ “ _ They were injured when their Patrol Base was attacked,” said Fletch, not quite believing that Serena wasn’t getting it.

 

“Yes.  A patrol base that had some visiting doctors by the sounds of it.”  Serena was starting to get a headache and was rapidly approaching the point at which she was going to lose patience with Raf and Fletch.

 

“Major Wolfe and Captain Dawson, Serena.  They were…”  Raf trailed off as he watched the colour drain from her face.

 

“Now she gets it…” Fletch turned the monitor back to its usual position and tossed his pen on his desk, the closest he would ever come to showing real anger at his normally incredibly understanding and sensible boss.

 

“How’s she doing?  The sister?” asked Raf, deciding to keep talking to Fletch whilst Serena worked through whatever it was she was needing to think about that was keeping her somewhat slack-jawed and rooted to the spot.

 

“Good.  That idea we had seems to have worked so far, so we’re just waiting on a ward bed.”

 

“Great.  And the kid?”

 

“Little Alex?  Quite the charmer, had everyone wrapped round her little finger in seconds.”

 

“Alex?  As in Alex Dawson Alex?” asked Raf, looking back at the little family group and the little kid who was playing with her uncle’s fingers as he spoke to his sister who was groggy but awake.

 

“Alexandra Berenice Michaela Granter,” said Fletch, standing up knowing that he had to go and do things.  “Big names for her to grow into.”

 

“Aye…” agreed Raf, touching Serena gently on the shoulder to check that she was back with them, which she was, just about, “but I think she’ll do grand, she’s got her uncle to help her.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> [If I have made any technical errors please let me know - I have neither medical nor military experience, but have tried to research as thoroughly as I can for the purposes of creating this story.]


End file.
